


Here at the End of the World

by ShirleyAnn66



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future AU, Sci Fi AU, The Apocalypse, The End of the World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 09:46:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13715094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShirleyAnn66/pseuds/ShirleyAnn66
Summary: Jaime/Brienne at the end of the world.





	Here at the End of the World

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N1:** Inspired by [_After the Gold Rush_](https://youtu.be/1e3m_T-NMOs) by Neil Young.
> 
> **A/N2:** I'm counting this as a partial fill for a prompt from BuckOHare on reddit, who asked for a sci fi setting. I don't think this is what they intended but I hope they enjoy it anyway.

***/*/*/*/***

The ships are beautiful and slender, a sea of artificial stalagmites glittering silver in the early morning sun.  Jaime watches the fireball ignite beneath each one, watches them slowly lift, gain momentum, the fires that drive them flickering orange and white and red, redder even than the comet growing ever larger in the sky.  He holds his breath, praying to gods he’s never truly believed in, hope burning in his chest even hotter than the flames pouring out behind the ships, hotter than the comet will be when it finally hits the atmosphere.

Then the fires in the sky bloom larger, brighter, devouring the ships and he’s frozen with horror and rage as the silver disappears, transformed into thick white tendrils of dust and ash that arch through the air like a dragon’s wings.

*/*/*/*/*

Jaime jerks awake, his heart pounding.  He’s frozen with panic, unable, it seems, to pull in any air.  Then Brienne makes a soft, snuffling sound and rolls over, flinging her arm across his waist and now he can take in a great, shuddering breath as relief floods through him.

_Just a dream_ , he thinks, trying to soothe away his panic.  _Just the same dream I’ve had for months now._

A nightmare, yes, but he hasn’t just watched everyone he loves die along with his hopes for humanity’s survival.  The last of the evacuations begin tomorrow and his time with Brienne will be over once the last of the Chosen Ones walks through the gates.

_Tomorrow._

He tightens his grip around his sleeping Brienne.

He misses her already.

*/*/*/*/*

Jaime carries a white rectangular plastic card with his name on it everywhere he goes.  It’s fastened to a thin golden lanyard and he keeps it safely locked away in a hidden and zipped pocket over his heart.  It’s the card of a Chosen One, one of the lucky few deemed worthy enough to pass through the gates guarding those silver ships, worthy enough to leave this doomed planet and take their place on the Mother’s Ship to begin a desperate journey to another world.

Jaime never goes anywhere without that card.  He keeps it safe and within reach because it’s more precious than all the gold that used to be in the mines of Casterly Rock.  It’s a symbol of hope and survival and mayhaps even redemption.

*/*/*/*/*

He opens his envelope with smug confidence, made even more smug with the knowledge that as a Lannister, of course he’s a Chosen One.  Even if his genetics didn’t guarantee him a place on the Mother’s Ship, or the fact he’s Lord Commander of the Westeros armed forces, second only to his father, the Hand of the King, then it would be because his family is practically single-handedly paying for the silver ships.  Mayhaps the world should just be grateful his father hadn’t coated the ships in gold.

He half-smiles at the thought although not much is amusing these days.

The thin paper he pulls out of his envelope confirms his expectations and he nods then glances at Brienne.

He frowns when he sees she’s sitting stiff and silent beside him.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” he says, nodding at the envelope she’s placed on the table.  He can only see her in profile but he can tell by the set of her jaw that she’s staring at that white rectangle like it’s going to leap off the table and grab her by the throat.

She stays perfectly still and doesn’t answer him.

“Brienne?” he says, and gently nudges her shoulder with his.  “You can’t possibly be worried, can you?  If anyone’s a Chosen One, it’s you, with all your honor and loyalty and doing-the-right-thing-at-all-costs and all that shit.”

She slides a glance at him from the corners of her gorgeous eyes, the only beautiful thing about her.  His own eyes widen at the sheer dread he sees in those depths.

He immediately sobers.  “Do you want me to open it?”

She shakes her head and turns her gaze back to the envelope on the table.  She takes a deep breath then reaches for it, her large hands trembling, and rips it open.

Jaime watches her scan the letter, sees the blood drain from her cheeks, her freckles standing out in stark contrast against her pale skin, and _knows_ even before the paper drifts from her fingers back to the tabletop.

*/*/*/*/*

He dreams that night for first time about the silver ships gleaming against the bright blue of the sky before dissolving into nothing but the dust of destroyed hopes and broken hearts.

*/*/*/*/*

Jaime is Lord Commander of the Westeros armed forces and as such, he’s pulled in a million directions at once.  The daily briefings about the comet’s path and the latest simulations based on those observations only become more dire with every passing day.  He’s become numb to words like ejecta and fireball, crater and airblast, impact zone and thermal radiation and extinction event.

All they can do is work so some can escape the planet before impact, the best of them, the brightest.  The Chosen Ones will make the long and dangerous journey to another world, carrying the hopes and dreams of all humanity with them.

Jaime is a soldier, the Lord Commander, and the decisions about what to do in the face of this danger are made by others.  His job is to make those decisions a reality, so he assigns some of his soldiers to guard the ship-building facilities and the factories and the mines that are pulling the needed materials out of the earth as quickly as humanly possible.  He has other soldiers coordinating the repurposing of the old and current mines throughout Westeros to house as many people and animals that can possibly be crammed beneath the surface of their doomed planet.  He orders the opening of the Doomsday Vault at Castle Black and portions out the seeds stored there to every location in Westeros and the rest of the world.

Whether there will be any soil left in which to grow those seeds is another question, as is the question of when the dust will settle enough to allow the sun to be seen in the sky again.

Assuming there are any survivors to see anything at all.

*/*/*/*/*

Jaime is Brienne’s Lord Commander and her friend.  They have been through more together than he cares to remember, in wartime and in peace, both before he became Lord Commander and after.  While there’s always been protocols and regulations and personal circumstances constraining their relationship, and while they both put their careers before themselves, their bond has also always been one of the most important things in his life.  The constraints placed on their relationship didn’t seem so intolerable when they had all the time in the world.

But the letters…the letters make it all real in a way it wasn’t before, even with all the briefings and simulations and preparations.

After the letters, nothing is the same.

*/*/*/*/*

Nothing is the same in the civilian population, either.

Riots erupt in every city and every town, there’s a huge spike in murders and suicides as well as mass desertions from his armed forces, and Jaime and his soldiers who are left are run off their feet protecting the ship-building facilities and the mines and factories from sabotage.

And Brienne...Brienne just looks hollowed out and defeated.

*/*/*/*/*

Jaime dreams of silver ships dissolving in the sky and worries about his soldiers and Brienne, and one night, after he jolts awake from another nightmare, shaking in his bed from terror and grief, he decides protocols don’t matter anymore.

*/*/*/*/*

The card for a Chosen One has a picture and a name on its surface and DNA embedded in the plastic.  The DNA must match the person holding the card and must match the DNA profile in the database.  The card is what allows a Chosen One to pass through the gates to the staging compound and from there, to one of the silver ships.

Jaime sometimes takes out the card he stores against his heart and stares at it, pondering all the hopes and dreams it represents.

He refuses to think of its dangers.

*/*/*/*/*

Brienne looks hollowed out and defeated and Jaime wants to comfort her if he only knew how.  She’s still his best officer, still his most loyal friend, and his feelings for her have always been something he tries not to think about too much.  He’s her Lord Commander and protocol and regulations and personal baggage has always been in their way.

They both know—have always known—that the feelings between them are deeper than mere friendship even if they’ve never had the courage to admit it, even if their careers have never allowed them to act on it.

But everything’s different now, Jaime thinks as he invites Brienne to his command tent for drinks one night.  There must be something in his face because she freezes for a moment, her own eyes riveted on his, before she slowly nods.

When she arrives, she’s nervous and flushed, awkward and stammering, and she hasn’t been this shy with him in years.  She’s utterly charming and irresistible and when he tells her he wants her, she steps into his arms without hesitation.

*/*/*/*/*

In the dark of night, in the safe cocoon of his bed, they talk.  Brienne tells him of Tarth and her dreams, now dashed, for the future.  He tells her of Casterly Rock, and his dreams, now dashed, for the future.  He tells her he’d always hoped she’d be part of it and she buries her face in the crook of his neck and tell him she’s always hoped the same.

He tells her about Cersei and Tyrion, the parts that aren’t public knowledge.  Cersei is Queen and Tyrion is the Grand Maester, the driving force behind the design and building of the Mother’s Ship, but they are also his siblings, their relationships are complicated, and he loves them just the same.

Brienne tells him of the siblings she lost before she ever knew them, and the complicated relationship she had with her father before his death several years earlier.

These are all things they already knew, but somehow it’s different now, when they’re talking in low tones, in the dark, their naked bodies pressed close together, warm and comforting.

“Why did you say yes to me?” Jaime whispers one night.

“Because you’ll be gone soon,” Brienne whispers back, “and I didn’t want to live with that regret…even if I wouldn’t have to live with it for long.”

“Brienne…”

“You’re a Chosen One, Jaime, and I’m not.  Why would you start this with me?”

He’s silent, stroking his hand down her long, strong back before he finally says, “ _I_ choose you, Brienne.”

She huffs a soft sound that’s half a chuckle and half a sob.  “I know,” she says, “but that’s not what I mean.”

“I know,” he says and kisses her, slowly, deeply.  “We don’t need to worry about that right now, Brienne.”

She’s silent, her fingers slowly moving against his chest, then she says, “Then why did _you_ choose me, Jaime, when no one else would?”

His fingers dig into the small of her back then relax.

“You know why,” he says.

She lifts her head and glares at him.

“You just like hearing me say it,” he says and laughs as she growls at him.  He kisses her again then says, “Of course, I like saying it, too:  I love you, Brienne.  I love you with all my heart.”

She slowly smiles.  “I love you, too, Jaime.  With all my heart.”

*/*/*/*/*

He takes a lock of her hair and keeps it close to his heart.

*/*/*/*/*

When the comet finally appears as a growing red stain in the sky, it’s time to begin gathering the Chosen Ones, to bring them to the staging compound and ready them for the journey to the Mother’s Ship.

The time for departure is almost upon them.

*/*/*/*/*

Jaime’s and his soldiers turn their attention to finding the Chosen Ones and escorting them to the staging compound.  The silver ships are already flying and Jaime prays to gods he doesn’t truly believe in that Tyrion has pulled off the miracle he promised and the Mother’s Ship is ready.

The hopes of all humanity depends on it.

*/*/*/*/*

Gathering the Chosen Ones is usually without incident but always emotional and occasionally chaotic.  Families are separated, children wailing as their parents disappear behind the gates, or wailing as they’re carried to the staging compound, leaving their parents behind.

Only Chosen Ones are allowed past the gates now, and Jaime sends one of his Chosen soldiers through every day, as escort for the others.  The silver ships are lifting off and returning each day, and so far, no accidents.

Still, on the bad days, Jaime takes out the card and wonders if there had been a better way.

*/*/*/*/*

Jaime’s brought back to the present as Brienne stirs against him then lifts her head to blink sleepily at him.

“Is it morning?” she asks and there’s a hint of fear in her voice.

He swallows, grief tearing at his throat.  “Not yet,” he murmurs.  “We still have some time.”

She sighs, relieved.  “Good,” she breathes, and kisses him.

*/*/*/*/*

He’s heavy-eyed with a heavy heart when morning finally dawns.

“It’s time,” Jaime says.

Brienne nods, refusing to look at him.  “It’s the end,” she says, and slips out of bed before he can show her again how much he loves her.

*/*/*/*/*

It’s the last day for the Chosen Ones to be brought to the staging compound.  The gates will close tonight because the Mother’s Ship will leave within the next forty-eight hours.  They want to be well away before the red comet impacts the planet in six months.

They don’t need to see that, Jaime thinks, and puts his fingers against his chest, over his heart, and feels the hard plastic of the card still safely tucked away in his pocket.

*/*/*/*/*

“These are the last of them, Jaime,” Brienne says.

Jaime looks at the small group of children, obviously related somehow, clustered in front of her, and nods.  “I’ve checked in with high command,” he says briskly.  “The gates will close as soon as you take the children through.”

Brienne frowns.  “ _I_ can’t take the children through,” she says.  “I’m not a Chosen One.”

Jaime’s smile is bittersweet as he unzips his hidden pocket and pulls out the card on its thin golden lanyard and loops it over Brienne’s head.

“You are now,” he says then cups her cheeks and kisses her.

She pulls away, shaking her head.

“Jaime--what...?”  She looks at the card and her jaw drops when she realizes the face staring stoically up at her is hers but the name beneath is—

“Jaime, this is your card!”

“You look like a Jaime Lannister to me,” he says and she shimmers through tears he refuses to shed.  “The Mother’s Ship was never for me, Brienne.  I was Chosen because my family demanded it, but everyone on that ships...they’re supposed to be the best of us, and you’re the best person I know.”  He pulls her closer and now he sees her eyes, too, are bright with unshed tears.  “That bunk on that ship belongs to you because no one deserves it more.”

“But…Jaime...my DNA--”

He kisses her, fiercely, desperately, and hopes she feels all his hunger and love for her but most important, his need for her to _survive_.

“Trust me,” he whispers against her ear then he abruptly releases her and steps away.

“Go,” he says, his voice harsh with grief.  He glances at the children, watching them with varying degrees of confusion.  He nods at them and says, “Besides, you’re the only one who can through the gates now and you have to take the children to the staging compound.”

Brienne stares at him, her eyes wide and luminous, and her lips tremble as she opens her mouth.  Then she glances at the children.  She jerks an abrupt nod and spins around to herd the children forward.

Jaime watches her go and wonders how he can still be standing when his heart is falling to earth in ashes, arching across the sky like a dragon’s wings.

*/*/*/*/*

Jaime and his soldiers stay with the crowds of people outside the compound’s fence to observe each lift-off, as one-by-one, the silver ships leave and this time, doesn’t return.  Jaime watches, his nightmare visions vivid in his mind’s eye.  He holds his breath and stares unblinking, his eyes watering, until every silver ship safely disappears from sight.

No explosions; no long white tentacles symbolizing death and destruction stretching back to earth.  He doesn’t know which one his family and Brienne will be on so he’s as terrified for the last ship as he is for the first because any of them could be carrying every person he loves into space, away from him, away from the red comet, away from the coming destruction.

He knows the Mother’s Ship could be destroyed for any number of reasons on its decades-long journey to the nearest habitable planet but if he doesn’t see it then for as long as he’s alive, he can believe _they’re_ alive and safe, living and arguing as the Mother’s Ship edges closer and closer to the speed of light and closer and closer to a new home.

_And loving_ , a tiny voice whispers in his ear.  _She’ll fall in love with someone else and have their children instead of his._

Jaime frowns and pushes the thought away as unworthy of him and more importantly, of her.  It’s why he put her on that ship, after all, because she deserves to survive and be happy and loved, mayhaps loved better than he could ever do.

That’s all that matters.

*/*/*/*/*

An almost eerie silence falls over the crowd as the last of the silver ships disappears into the sun.

Jaime stares upwards, eyes watering.  The Chosen Ones have gone to meet their future, and if he turns, he’ll see the red smudge in the sky that is the future of those left behind.

The people surrounding him have all had someone they love torn away from them—or in his case, pushed away—in the hope that humanity will survive.

“What now?” someone asks and Jaime sighs and shrugs.

“I guess now we do our best to survive the comet.”

“There _is_ no way to survive the comet,” a woman says in the crowd, her voice bitter.  “Isn’t that why I had to put my baby on the Mother’s Ship?”

Jaime turns and looks at her with half-smile that’s almost as bitter as her voice.  “I didn’t say we’d succeed...but that doesn’t mean we don’t _try_.”

*/*/*/*/*

The crowd slowly disperses back to their homes while Jaime returns to his command tent where he and his commanders bend over a map of Westeros.

“Are we ready to go underground?” Jaime asks.  “The mines of the Westerlands are ready, as is Dragonstone.  The major cities have been reinforcing their subway and sewer systems, making them into makeshift underground bunkers.  What’s the status of the crypts of Winterfell and the other great castles in the North?”

“The crypts are impossible to seal,” says a familiar voice behind him, “and would only hold a handful of people anyway.  They’ve been building real underground shelters instead.”

Jaime spins round and gapes at the speaker.

“No,” he groans, his stomach sinking even as his heart leaps.

Brienne blinks her amazing eyes and gives him a tentative smile.  “You should be a little happier to see me, Jaime.  I gave up seeing the stars for you.”

Jaime’s vaguely aware of his other commanders exchanging glances and slinking out of the tent while he continues gaping at Brienne, unsure if he’s furious or ecstatic at the sight of her.

She takes several steps towards him, her beautiful eyes wide and nervous.  She holds up a white rectangle, a thin gold lanyard dangling from it, and says, “How long had you planned this?”

He frowns at the thing before he realizes it’s the card he placed around her neck before he sent her into the compound.  He sighs.

“From the moment I learned you weren’t among the Chosen.  It took a while to find the right people to bribe but everyone has a price.”

“Even at the end of the world?”

His smile is fleeting.  “Especially at the end of the world.  It’s not always money that people want.”

Her eyes widen.  “Did you _sleep_ with somebody to get this done?”

“I wasn’t the one she was interested in,” Jaime says, his voice dry.  “Thankfully, Nymeria Sand is a good friend...and the attraction was mutual, at least at that moment.”

Brienne frowns down at the little rectangle.  “That was all it took?”

He shrugs.  “That, and a picture and a lock of your hair for your DNA, and Tyrion to hack the database.  They’re all romantic souls and appreciated my reasons.”

Brienne glances up at him, and now her beautiful eyes flash with anger.  “I was never meant to be on that ship, Jaime.  I was never one of the Chosen!”

He lifts his head, all arrogant lion.  “ _I_ chose you. That should have been enough.”

“Not for all those without someone like you.”

“I gave you my place, Brienne.  I didn’t push somebody else out of their place.”

They glare at each other in tense silence, then Jaime says, “Why are we fighting?”

Brienne’s shoulders slump.  “ _You_ should have been on that ship.  All I wanted was to know you had a chance to survive and step on to a new world.”

Jaime takes a step towards her.  “That’s what I wanted to believe about you,” he says.

“You should have asked me,” she says, taking a diffident step closer.

“Would you have agreed?” he asks, tilting his head as he moves closer, his mouth quirking into a half-smile.

“Never.”

Now they’re close enough to step into each other’s arms and he gathers her close as he buries his face in the crook of her neck.

“And now you know why I didn’t ask,” he murmurs against her warm skin, and kisses her.

*/*/*/*/*

She’s tall and proud beside him when they step into the mines of Casterly Rock and seal the entrance, the comet like a red sun in the sky.

Then they wait together, with the others, to see what happens next.

#####


End file.
